THE PHANTOM OF HYRULE'S OPERA
by Ara Laothen
Summary: With an explanation inside. Simply put, this is a look into my obsession with Phantom of the Opera, where the characters from Hyrule play out the parts of Phantom. More inside...my chance to see an in-depth part of what the characters were thinking.
1. Prologue

Okay, I just saw The Phantom of the Opera (need I remind you that Gerard Butler as Phantom is the hottest thing I've seen so far in my life, besides the LOTR men cast....) and I got this wild inspiration. What if I took one of my obsessions and twisted it into Phantom? Why do this, you ask? ? Shut it. So I got to thinking: which obsession to choose? My very first thought was Legend of Zelda. Where can you go wrong???? (I also thought Harry Potter, but....Harry as the Phantom, Hermione as Cristine??? Whaaaaaat? Maybe...when I have time. I'd probably do like, Severus as Phantom, Lilly as Cristine, and James as Raoul....or, I could do AYA as Cristine, Remus as Raoul, and some other character as Phantom....when I have time). Thus, I am doing Zelda first, then maybe (if I'm that obsessed, I'll probably go all the way to Inuyasha and Gundam Wing, most likely...) I'll do others. So, here we go.

I don't own The Legend of Zelda. Anything that sounds like it did not come from my mind, but from the minds of the geniuses who thought of them first. I also do not own the story and musical score to The Phantom of the Opera. THAT, I'm afraid, belongs to its creator, Mr. Webber. If he'd like to give the rights to me, I'd be very honored. But that's not important. Also, welcome, my loyal readers, to another darkness in the dark corners of my rather twisted mind. Enjoy this story, and review if you dare. (disappears in a flash of smoke) AHAHAHAHAHHAAAA....sorry.

Author's note: if something is in quotes and is italicized, too (like _"hi"_), it is sung. Normal italics means, normally, thought, unless I have designated if it is sung or not. This is a musical, after all. If you need help with the music, just look up Phantom (preferably, the movie music).

Dedication: To the real Angel of Music, wherever he may lie in my heart.

THE PHANTOM OF HYRULE'S OPERA

Another madness by Ara Laothen

Ch. 1: Prologue

The carriage wheels creaked and groaned as they turned with a rather forced effort along the cobbled streets. Wind blew without a sound, but it was cold, colder than any could have thought possible considering the time of year. The _clop, clop_ of the horses' hooves added more of an eeriness to the scene than they had just moments before. And as the sun still spilled its rays on the rather bustling streets of Hyrule Market, it could only shred a bit more of shadows onto the building that loomed off to the right of everything, secluded and towering high above the tallest buildings of the Market. The garden in the front of this gothic-style building, which had once been beautiful, now held an ominous tone to it, as if the weeds and withering tulips would latch themselves to the carriage and hold it back, keeping it from the building and the horrid secrets that lay within. The only color that made itself known to any creature was the red...the blood-red of the roses that fought with the oppression of the dying garden.

As if undaunted, or choosing not to notice, by the presence of the garden, the horses continued on to the steps leading to the building, pulling the carriage along with them. Slowly, softly, they slowed to a halt before the steps, the carriage easing to a stop just behind. With a grateful sigh, the coachmen released his hold on the reins and, with a creak of his aging bones, swung his legs over the side of his seat and leapt rather ungracefully to the ground. Standing and straightening his tux, he moved towards the door of the carriage and, putting an arm behind his back, opened the door. A nursemaid, most likely a care-taker of some sort, stepped out, white hat and all, with a religious necklace of the Triforce dangling around her neck. Turning, her face solemn, she held out a slender arm to take the aging hand of a man enshrouded in the shadows of the coach.

He stepped out into filtered sunlight, his blue eyes smarting a little in the change of light. With a nod from the nursemaid, the coachman moved to another part of the carriage to withdraw a wheelchair that he wheeled forward for the old man. Sighing out of exhaustion and disdain, the old man lowered himself into the chair, his faded, green tunic shifting around his body. The old man stared down at his hands. They seemed so _naked_ without his golden gauntlets. But he had lost his original strength two years before...the day that she....

He shook his head, trying to keep the ache out of his heart. Nodding to his caretaker, he was wheeled towards the gothic-style building, then wheeled up the ramp that had been set in preparation for his arrival.

-PHO-

It had already begun as the old man was wheeled towards the platform on the creaky, almost dying stage.

"Now, lot 663, ladies and gentlemen. A poster for "The Triforce" by the famed Twinrova. Do I have any rupees?" the auctioneer said, his head raised high over the platform. Those accumulated for the auction began to raise their numbers to play the auction game. "Five then. Five I am bid." Someone raised her hand. "Six, seven." The old man signaled for the nursemaid to raise his number for him. She obeyed in earnest. The auctioneer nodded. "Eight. Eight once. Selling twice. Sold, to Sir Link of Hyrule."

And so he continued on, auctioning off several different assortments to the highest bidder. Link himself would've felt disgusted at the spectacle of seeing little pieces of history (_his_ history) being sold off to strangers who probably could care less about the sentimental value of these precious pieces of the past. Yet, here he was, playing their little game. But, all for her...all for what she had asked him, no, begged him to do for her if she....

Again he shrugged off the ache in his heart.

The auctioneer continued. "Lot 665, ladies and gentlemen: a papier-mâché musical box, in the shape of a barrel-organ. Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals. This item, discovered in the vaults of the theatre, still in working order." He held up the music box, the small monkey clearly worn away by time, but which clearly, and without any doubt, held a mystery to it all its own. Link started. That was it! What she had asked for. What she wanted him to get before...

"Do I have any takers?" the auctioneer called out, drawing Link from his morbid thoughts. An aging woman raised her number. Link looked towards her. His blue eyes widened in surprise. "Madame Impa...twenty rupees? Agreed." It truly was Impa. "Do I have thirty rupees?" It truly was. How she lived now...unless...unless it was Madame Impa's daughter, young Malon. Yes, that had to be it. Link narrowed his eyes at her. Yes, past the grey hair and the stern complexion of old age was the young, red-haired girl withsoft, browneyes. The friend of....

Link shook his head.

"Do I have thirty rupees?" the auctioneer asked again.

Link motioned for the nursemaid to raise his number. The auctioneer acknowledged the movement with a nod.

"Thirty rupees for Sir Link," he said with another nod. He looked to Madame Impa...Malon. "Anything above that?" Madame Impa...Malon....hesitated....then she shook her head. "The music box is therefore sold to Sir Link. Congratulations, sir." Madame Impa...Malon...glanced at Link. Did she understand?

One of the workers at the auction brought the strange music box to Link's hands. He took it shakily and placed it in his lap. Link was drawn into his thoughts again.

_(Sung): A collector's piece indeed . .  
_

_every detail exactly as she said . . ._

_She often spoke of you, my friend ...._

_Your velvet lining, and your figurine of lead..._

_Will you still play, when all the rest of us are dead?_

The auctioneer resumed his purpose as he pointed to a large object covered by a dust-filled cloth in the center of the room. "Lot 666, then: a chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of Hyrule's Opera: a mystery never fully explained." Link looked up from the music box towards the covered chandelier. He shivered inwardly. "We are told ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. Our workshops have restored it and fitted up parts of it with wiring for the new electric light, so that we may get a hint of what it may look like when re-assembled. Perhaps we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination? Gentlemen?"

As the covering was removed, and all those present beheld the chandelier, so beautifully ominous and glimmering with its own light, Link was again drawn back into the past. Indeed, it seemed that, as the chandelier was raised to the ceiling of Hyrule's Opera House, the winds of time seemed to add more color to the room, as if the past was mingling passionately, forcefully, with the present....as if the Opera House was reviving itself with the awakening of its center ornament....

-PHO-

Well, there's the first chapter for you. Yeah, many of the stuff spoken/sung will be direct quotes from the musical/movie. Please review, though! I might give off a cast list of everyone in the next chapter…I'm not too sure yet, but if it gets confusing (my Phantom character already poses a problem for me) I definitely will. It all depends.


	2. Think of Me, Dear Link

I don't own Zelda, and I don't own Phantom. On to chapter two. Oh, and to Crimson Rose: thank you for reviewing! To answer your question, PHO actually is my "page breaker" thing which stands literally for my title, but shortened (like people call Lord of the Rings LOTR). Wow, and more people are reviewing! This is unexpected, but much appreciated!

THE PHANTOM OF HYRULE'S OPERA

Another madness by Ara Laothen

Ch. 2: Think of Me, Dear Link

-PHO-

_Hyrule:Fifty Years Earlier_

The wheels of the carriage moved swiftly and joyously through the cobbled streets of Hyrule Market, sunlight reflecting from the windows of the carriage to dance along the buildings and the faces of those who looked towards the horse-driven contraption with amusement. At the front of the carriage, his head held high as he confidently gripped the reins, Sir Link of Hyrule guided his proud horses through the streets, banking a swift right. Through a luscious and beaming garden the horses moved, Link guiding them naturally and effortlessly, a smile plain on his youthful features. With confidence, he slowed his horses to a stop, then leapt graciously to the ground, allowing just enough time to pass for him to smooth his green tunic. His golden gauntlets sparkled in the beaming sun. Fixing his equally green hat, he sped off up the stairs, dodging the custodian at the doors, and made his way inside.

-PHO-

The Opera House, the most famous in all Hyrule, was full of the hustle and bustle as was befitting a theater of its caliber. Yet, on the stage, most of this activity (and many an anxiety attack) was focused rather strongly. Dancers moved swiftly across the stage, back and forth in a flutter of motion and fluttering fabric. Even as this occurred, those trying to act their parts and sing as according to the opera that was so stressful at the moment miraculously managed to avoid these ballet dancers and reach their required notes.

Yes, rehearsals were always the epitome of stress for all in the opera house.

At the front of this masquerade that only fantasy could conceive stood a woman with hair twisted high above her head, the color of which was somewhere between red and auburn. The fact that her skin was dark, as if she had spent years in the Gerudo Valley Desert, was well hidden by the massive amounts of make-up and glitter that covered her face, neck, and any other amount of skin that chanced to appear from the rather large, green dress she wore that flowed outwards from her hips and completely covered her feet. A rather poignant arch of her eyebrow at the moment, however, was enough to send even the most stalwart of men scampering for cover.

La Nabooru was clearly getting annoyed.

As she had now become an obstacle for the majority of the dancers, many of them had either to stop completely or, more gracefully, to simply fall forward on their faces. The conductor, Kafei, attempted to ignore the fact that La Nabooru was starting to sing half-heartedly in her annoyance.

"_Once more for the Goddesses, my fellow sisters,_

_do I sing..."_

She stopped and let out a sound from her lips that was either a moan or a whine. Kafei, now choosing to acknowledge the fact that the lead soprano had become both a danger to those on stage and a mute, sighed heavily, rolled his eyes, and let his prized conductor's hands grow lifeless.

The music stopped immediately.

"Now what is it, Nabooru?" Kafei asked, trying his hardest not to mask the frustration in his voice.

She was about to reply when Talon, the Opera House's owner, entered on stage, two men, or rather, a man and a very muscular _thing_, in the tow of his shadow. Talon was obviously continuing a conversation with them.

Upon reaching the center of the stage, he cleared his throat. Kafei, now deciding to make his irritation clearly known, said loudly, "Monsieur Talon, we are _rehearsing._" He motioned for the performers to continue.

They obeyed, save for Nabooru, who eyed the two newcomers. Kafei glanced once at Nabooru, shook his head, and looked at the sheet of music on the podium before him.

Again Talon cleared his throat loudly (an amazing talent of his to be heard above a noise such as that, but, then again, he _had_ been the owner of Hyrule's Opera House for decades at least). Kafei decided to kick the podium this time.

Rehearsal was, once more, interrupted.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt rehearsal, but I have an...announcement to make." Those on stage moved slightly closer to his proximity, while the furthest away craned their necks forward to hear. "I'm sure you have all heard of the rumors hinting my retirement. I am here to say that they are all true," Talon said as he placed his hands behind his back. There was a gasp from the crowd. "No, no, I'm not leaving you all to fend for yourselves." He turned to the two standing slightly behind him. "I am most honored to introduce to you Monsieurs Rauru and Darunia, your new managers."

Kafei sighed. _Farore save us_, he thought to himself as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Monsieurs, I beg of you, we are in _rehearsal._ 'The Triforce' debuts soon, and we are behind schedule..."

"Of course, Monsieur," Talon said with a bow, throwing a hand in front of him more to catch his balance than anything else. Kafei gritted his teeth.

"Thanks," Kafei muttered to himself, then motioned for rehearsal to continue. Those on stage, though looking slightly glum, obeyed the orders of their rather tyrannical conductor once again. The dancers continued their scheme of endless movement.

"Gentlemen, if we may continue our tour?" Talon asked with a bow.

"Of course, monsieur," Rauru said with a nod. Darunia continued to stare at the dancers.

"Ah, I see Monsieur Darunia has taken an interest in our dancers," Talon pointed out, then motioned for the both of them to move to a better viewing spot for the dancers (and thus moving slightly out of harm's way).

"Yes, and who is that lovely redhead, sir?" Darunia asked earnestly, his eyes intent on the mentioned dancer.

"Ah, that would be Malon Impa, monsieur," Talon answered. "The daughter of our ballet teacher...ah, and here comes Madame Impa!"

Madame Impa strode towards the three men with a confident air, her head held high. She moved, however, much as any ballet dancer would despite her age: fluently, and with a grace that could only match royalty. Her eyes, a deep, mesmerizing red, would gaze steadily at the men before her for a moment, as if she were considering their very souls as worthy or not, then turned back to her dancers, her every step in tune with their movements. This transition of her eyes, however, was so subtle that it went on unnoticed by the dancers' captive audience of three. Thus, she was able, as was her very distinct talent, to consider and meditate on the natural tendencies of others in a matter of seconds without having the victim of such intense scrutiny knowing of such an occurrence. Her scrutiny allowed her the amount of respect she always received.

"Madame Impa," Talon regarded her as she came upon him and his companions. Rauru seemed a little startled at her sudden appearance, but Darunia's eyes were intent rather oddly on his dancers.

But Madame Impa only waved him aside. "You, gentlemen, are in the way of my dancers! Move!"

Blushing crimson, the three men stepped back to allow the rehearsals to continue without interruption.

"And why are you retiring, Monsieur?" Darunia asked without turning to him, his eyes still intent on the young ballet girls. Talon remained silent.

The dancers continued their routine.

"My goddess," Darunia breathed suddenly. "Who is that blonde dancing over there? The one with those perfect blue eyes?"

Impa followed his gaze to the foretold dancer as she leapt gracefully forward, landing with ease on the points of her feet, only to twirl back in time with her companions, her feet gliding along the ground as morning mist clings effortlessly to a lake of glass. "That, monsieur, would be young Zelda Daaé. A very gifted dancer."

"Daaé?" Rauru asked, turning to Madame Impa, then resumed his gaze towards Zelda. "No relation to the famed violinist, I assume?"

"His only child. She is an orphan, monsieurs," Madame Impa answered. "She came to dance at the Opera House when she was seven years old; promising talent, Monsieur...very promising. I consider her," and at this she eyed Darunia in that subtle and scrutinizing way, "my adoptive daughter."

Darunia glanced at Madame Impa, narrowed his eyes, then tried in vain to look at anything but Zelda.

To all of this, Zelda remained unaware of what was occurring around her. Instead, the young girl of seventeen, as she danced, was lost in her own little world, her own little fantasies of a strange, enchanting voice that would often speak to her in her dreams...

Presently, as the rehearsals reached their climax (La Nabooru had suddenly regained her competitive edge in the presence of her manager), a heightening, trembling note that wavered from the voices of the actors on stage who now stood before a giant replica of the Triforce danced rather precariously in the air. It descended rather sharply on the ears, Nabooru's even sharper voice heard over all. And, as soon as it began to end, a prop from one of the actors high up near the replica shifted off, slamming dangerously close to La Nabooru to instead land on the male lead of the play's head. Ingo thus tripped forward in shock and fell headfirst into a midget near his feet, who also skipped forward and slid along the floor, taking a few dancers down with him.

As the note ended, Kafei breathed a sigh of relief and threw his head back, his eyes again rolling to the ceiling. The dancers breathlessly moved to the side, a few of the bumped ones saving as much dignity as they could.

That moaning whine nearly escaped from La Nabooru's lips, but she decided to keep it to herself in the presence of her managers. She may love to give others a piece of her mind, but her manager payed the bills and kept her rich, of course. Instead, she strolled forward and bowed as showily as she could.

"Ah, monsieurs," Talon said, "it would honor me to introduce you to our prima donna, La Nabooru. She is our Lady Nayru for Twinrova's 'Triforce' opera piece, and also the lead soprano of the Opera House. Has been so for five seasons."

"An honor, my lady," Darunia said with a smile as he graciously took La Nabooru's hand and kissed it. Rauru did the same.

At this moment, Link entered from the back of the stage. Talon sighed happily.

"Ah, and here, ladies and gentlemen," Talon said breathlessly, "is the man with the pocket full of money for us...may I present Sir Link of Hyrule!"

As many clapped, La Nabooru moved forward.

Zelda started as she saw Link, then grabbed Malon's arm. "I can't believe it," she whispered, her blue eyes wide and sparkling. "It's Link..."

"From the seaside?" Malon whispered back.

"Yes...we were...childhood friends," Zelda replied slowly, her eyes following Link wherever he seemed to go.

La Nabooru had reached her target. She extended a sweaty arm to him, a lustful smile on her lips.

"This, monsieur," Talon said to Link, "is La Nabooru...our lead soprano."

Arching an eyebrow, but clearly not wanting to offend, Link graciously took her hand and, as quickly as he could, briefly let his lips touch the very top of her hand, then, gracefully but swiftly, moved his lips away as he straightened. Nabooru, clearly satisfied, smiled and turned to her servants who waited at the side of the stage.

"He _love_ me," she said arrogantly to them, that smile on her lips. "Love me, love me, love me..."

"La Nabooru is our lead for this year's new production, 'The Triforce,'" Talon was saying to Link. "She'll be playing Lady Nayru of Wisdom as she expresses her love for a mortal played by Ingo, our other lead." Ingo nodded and bowed quickly.

"Wonderful," Link mused. He glanced at his pocket watch, then clicked his tongue. "Ah, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen. I have other business to attend to...I just felt I should stop by and see how things were going...forgive me..."

As he moved by Zelda, her breathing quickened, her heart began to race...and then he passed without a word. "I....I doubt he remembers me at all..." she whispered half-heartedly to Malon.

"I'm sure he didn't see you," Malon whispered reassuringly to her friend.

"Hm," Rauru said, his gaze returning to Nabooru. "If I remember rightly, Lady Nayru has a rather fine aria in Act Three of 'Triforce.' I wonder, Signora, if, as a personal favor, you would oblige us with a private rendition?" He eyed Kafei. "Unless, of course, Monsieur Kafei objects..."

Kafei, trying hard not to kick the podium again (he had not eaten since the clock had struck five in the morning), remained steadily silent.

"My manager commands...Monsieur Kafei?" La Nabooru asked haughtily, strutting forward with her pointed noise held high.

Kafei clenched his fist. "If my..._diva_ commands?"

La Nabooru marched forward. "Maestro," she said arrogantly to Kafei.

The piano began. A few servants who were cleaning the audience seats instinctively put cotton in their ears.

Nabooru took a deep breath and sang.

"_Think of me,_

_  
think of me fondly,_

_  
when we've said goodbye._

_  
Remember me once in a while -_

_  
please promise me you'll try."  
_

As this singing, however unbalanced it may have been, descended upon the Opera House, above the stage there was heard, for any who truly cared to listen, a flutter of a dark fabric, the soft _patter, patter_ of feet unlike any heard before. They sailed along the ground at a surprising rate, a mythical ship in a sea full of darkness. A hand, gloved completely in black, shot out from within the folds of a large, shadowy cape, striking against the workings that held an important backdrop high above the stage.

Unbeknownst to her, La Nabooru continued.

_  
"When you find that, once again, you long_

_to take your heart . . ."_

As La Nabooru sang those words, a loud whining sound, as of rope rubbing against rope, was heard, followed almost immediately by the crashing of the backdrop, a large cloth bound by two parallel, heavy pieces of wood connected at the top and bottom of the cloth. It sailed down at an incredible speed to land mere inches from where the opera's lead soprano had been standing had she not leapt forward ungracefully to land on her face. She was screaming in terror.

As Rauru leapt forward, Talon yelled in a voice that would reach the rafters to the space high above the stage, "Good gods, Ganon! What the devil are you doing up there?!!"

"It wasn't me, sir, honest!" Ganon yelled back as he tended to his post, dutifully drawing the backdrop back up. "Please monsieur don't look at me: as Din's my witness, I was not at my post. Please monsieur, there's no one there: and if there is," he sneered, "well then, it must be a ghost..."

The chorus and dancers, as well as the rest of the actors, muttered anxiously to themselves. A few yelled out, "He's here! The Phantom of the Opera!"

"Good heavens, the what?" Rauru said with a shake of his head. "This is nonsense..."

Madame Impa noticed the small letter that floated gently to the ground offstage. Going to retrieve it, she looked up to the rafters, but saw nothing but the darkness. Frowning, she opened the letter.

"My dear," Rauru was saying as he helped Nabooru to her feet, "these things do happen, I'm afraid. Thank Nayru you weren't hurt."

But La Nabooru would not be eased. Throwing her hands in the air, her glitter glistening in the light and from her sweat, she cried, "Si! These things do happen! Well, until you stop these things happening," she pointed to herself, "_this_ thing does not happen! Ingo! Come!" Turning on her heel, she marched out.

"Amateurs," Ingo spat before following her out.

Seeing his opportunity, Talon began to make his way towards the exit. "I don't think there's much more to assist you, gentlemen. Good luck. If you need me, I shall be on the other side of the country." Half-skipping, he sped away.

There was a silence. All present gazed at their new managers expectantly.

"La Nabooru will be back," Rauru said confidently. "Er...won't...she...?"

"I wouldn't be too sure, monsieurs," Madame Impa's voice called, startling all present. She moved gracefully forward and handed Rauru the note. "I have received a letter from the Opera Ghost."

Darunia put a hand to his forehead. "Farore's wind, you're all _obsessed_!"

Madame Impa regarded him for a moment, then replied, "He merely welcomes you to his opera house and commands you to continue to leave Box Five empty for his use." She paused for a moment, then continued. "And he also reminds you that his salary is due." At this, a small smile crept across her lips for a fleeting moment, then was gone.

"_His salary_?!" Rauru cried incredulously.

Madame Impa raised a questioning eyebrow. "Monsieur Talon paid him twenty thousand rupees a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with Sir Link of Hyrule as your patron?"

Darunia was about to say something to her that was quite unbefitting a man of his reputation, but he merely decided to hold his tongue. Instead, he replied, "Madame, I'm sure there's an understudy for La Nabooru, of course?"

"'Understudy'?" Kafei laughed from his place. "There is no _understudy_ for La Nabooru! This is a brand new production!"

"Dear goddesses in the sacred realm," Rauru swore. "Well, who else have we got? Whom may we use to play for Lady Nayru?" He placed a shaky hand to his moist forehead. "Oh, dear Farore, I'm going to be ill..."

Madame Impa moved towards her dancers. They parted as she passed. Presently, she came upon Zelda and, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders, steered the poor thing to the front of the stage. "Zelda could sing the part for you."

"What?" Rauru said incredulously.

Madame Impa smiled. "She has been taught by a great teacher."

Zelda, a blush just appearing on her cheeks, turned to Madame Impa with a look in her sapphire eyes that was somewhere between embarrassment and fear.

"Well?" Darunia asked. "Can you?"

"I...I don't know, sir," Zelda replied quietly.

"Darunia, this is doing _nothing_ for my nerves," Rauru hissed as he rubbed his temples. His companion silenced Rauru with a look.

"Go on, Zelda," Madame Impa said, gently motioning her forward. Malon came to stand beside her mother, an encouraging smile on her lips.

"Alright," Kafei said, his mood somewhat refreshed after La Nabooru's exit. "From the top, mademoiselle."

The piano began to play.

Zelda's heart was beating in her chest forcefully, but she refused to allow herself to tremble. Her palms became sweaty, but she remembered...

"_Think of me,_

_  
think of me fondly,_

_  
when we've said goodbye._

_  
Remember me once in a while -_

_  
please promise me you'll try..._"

She looked towards Madame Impa and Malon, her blue eyes shining with an emotion that threatened to overtake her. Inwardly, Zelda could feel the tremble beginning around her heart. Soon, she knew, it would burst into a thousand pieces, and next she would be groveling on the floor in tears.

But Malon only nodded, her eyes urging Zelda into confidence. Madame Impa only allowed the ghost of a smile to creep across her usually stern lips.

Zelda, returning the smile with one of her own, suddenly looked forward towards the audience, row upon row of empty seats, their colors mimicking the red roses outside in the garden. Her beating heart suddenly slowed into calm as if a warm cloak had wrapped itself around her, comforting her...whispering songs in her head. She stepped forward with confidence.

"_When you find that, once_

_  
again, you long_

_  
to take your heart back and be free -_

_  
if you ever find a moment,_

_  
spare a thought for me_...

-PHO-

The audience gazed at her with one face, eyes twinkling like endless stars upon a black night. Zelda could almost feel the beat of every heart, could sense the magic in her own tongue, her own voice. She had never put so much passion in her voice before...had never felt such undying confidence, such incredible surges of emotion that had slept in her bosom until now. Zelda reached her notes effortlessly...

"_We never said_

_our love was evergreen,_

_  
or as unchanging as the sea -_

_  
but if you can still remember_

_  
stop and think of me . . ._

Think of all the things

_  
we've shared and seen -_

_  
don't think about the things_

_  
which might have been . . . _

Think of me,

_  
think of me waking,_

_  
silent and resigned. _

Imagine me,

_  
trying too hard to put you_

_  
from my mind. _

Recall those days

_  
look back on all those times,_

_  
think of the things_

_  
we'll never do -_

_  
there will never be a day, _

_  
when I won't think of you . ."_

The orchestra rose in its answer to her voice.

Link, from his box seat to the right of the stage, started as he saw her, his mind at a loss, his heart beginning to race in his chest. It couldn't be...or could it...?

_(Sung): Can it be?_, he mused,

_Can it be Zelda?_

He rose from his chair, his applause growing louder, possibly, than the audience's. "Bravo!!" he called loudly, a large smile on his face. Goddess, she looked beautiful, like a sleeping bud bursting into bloom in an instant, a bright and vibrant rose that outshone any other flower that had come before it and would most certainly follow after. His smile widened. It _was_ Zelda; her rosy cheeks were the same as he remembered. There was a hint of her childhood in her, but she had grown in maturity in such a drastic way he was thrown aback at its possibility. That gawky little girl was gone. Before him stood a young woman, fresh and instantaneous, an attraction he could never look away from. It was her! She, the young girl, the young playmate he had spent his young days with...she, the girl he had payed his farewells to...

Again he shook his head. Goddess...she was so beautiful...

_(Sung): Long ago,_

_It seems so long ago,_

_How young and innocent we were._

_She may not remember me,_

_but I remember her..._

The orchestra was beginning to end its song to her. She smiled in anticipation and again poured her heart into her voice.

"_Flowers fade,_

_the fruits of summer fade,_

_they have their seasons, so do we._

_But please promise me that sometimes you will think...."_

She had trembled the night prior to this in her bed when she considered this part in the song. Silently, in her heart, she prayed to him...to the one who had sang songs in her head...who had spoken to her in her dreams...

She felt confidence renewed grow in her heart. It spread throughout her, filling her voice with a passion, a power, she had never thought possible. Oh, and how real it was...

She reached the notes effortlessly, in an opera fashion that would make the gods sing in jealousy. Her voice soared to the ceiling, broke past it, and sailed on into the heavens to kiss the clouds and the moon as effortlessly as possible.

"_O-o-o-o-....of me!"_

The audience roared in applause, their voices threatening to bring the chandelier above them crashing down upon their heads.

The chandelier itself seemed to shake, not from the noise, but as if from its own appreciation of the singer...as if a heart beat within it...

And deep, deep, down below the opera house, a cloaked figure smiled in the darkness. The Angel of Music had sung so perfectly...._his_ Angel of Music...

-PHO-

Chapter three to be coming soon...please review!


	3. Little Lotte and the Angel

Sorry I haven't updated in a long time. I've been a little ill, and school has decided to become even uglier than it has ever been before. However, I have actually returned, and thus, here we are at chapter three. My sincerest apologies.

I don't, of course, own Zelda, nor do I have the rights to Phantom of the Opera. I _am_, however, reading the original novel by Gaston Leroux (originally dubbed _Le Fântome de L'Opèra_), and as such, I am now dwelling even further into the obsessive world. Kudos to me...I highly recommend reading the novel. It may not have the usual elements that a movie/musical production can give, but it does have its suspense, and Christine comes across as a little...insane. Please read that, if you have the time or are lacking in the sanity department.

THE PHANTOM OF HYRULE'S OPERA

Another madness by Ara Laothen

_Ch. 3: Little Lotte and the Angel _

PHO-

"Bravo! Bravo, mademoiselle! Bravo, to young Daaé and her angelic voice!"

Zelda blushed yet again as she made her way through the labyrinthine ways in the back of the stage. Her dressing room beckoned to her with such intensity that she nearly ran through the crowd that was accumulating at an alarming rate, her mind eager for solitude. The crowds of fellow performers continued to chant her name. She felt more than simple awkwardness at this sudden show of awe and reverence towards her person. They had never acted so towards her before, and why they did now was utterly beyond her. All the attention, though flattering, made her feel all the more isolated, even more so than she had ever felt in her life. And oh, how she longed for the quiet solitude of her room!

Nodding her head graciously towards a young ballet dancer who waved to her, the young dancer's face flushed yet full of excitement, Zelda was about to turn to whoever else called her name when she suddenly felt a presence, a heaviness on her heart that caused her turn towards the darkness of the rafters above. The shadows overhead seemed soothing in their watchful silence.

Zelda turned her head slightly to the side. Had not someone, a face dressed in striking white, been watching her just then? Perhaps it was...

But she shook her head.

Perhaps it was time that she should visit the Opera's chapel first, to thank her beloved teacher and to say her good-evening to her father...

PHO-

"Gods above, how Zelda sang!" a young dancer cried aloud with a giggle as she reached the door leading to the dancers' room. "Malon, since when could Zelda ever sing like that? Last _I _heard, she barely sang for anyone, let alone a full house!"

Malon smiled in return. "She sings for someone very special, they say," she answered.

"And where in Nayru's name is that girl, anyway?" another dancer asked. "It's high time she let us all know who her 'tutor' is!"

Malon looked around. "I actually...have no idea where she is..."

"Well? Go find her!"

PHO-

Zelda carefully lit a candle, then rested her chin slightly upon her bosom, closing her eyes as she clasped her hands together. The chapel, small and almost windowless save for the stained-glass window to her left, was full of shadows cast by the few lit candles. In front of her, the mural dedicated to the angels of the Sacred Realm seemed to catch the light and merge it with the dancing shadows.

Quietly, she prayed to her father, a ghost of a smile on her lips. The ground where she knelt felt intoxicating and warm to her, her dress billowing about her on the floor like a great, foaming sea.

Once more the presence pressed upon her heart, and a voice softly sang to her in the darkness, causing her to raise her head, her eyes opening slowly.

_"Brava, brava...Bravessima!"_

She smiled. He was here, here in this room at last!

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she could barely hear it. Her mind existed only for this evanescent voice...

But Malon's voice was heard as well.

_"Zelda! Zelda!"_ Malon called to her.

The strange voice echoed Malon's call. Zelda closed her eyes in ecstasy.

_"Zelda..."_

Malon smiled at her kneeling friend as she leaned against the entranceway leading to the Chapel. Always like Zelda, Malon mused, to move as far away from attention, wanted or not, to dwell in comforting darkness, far away from the limelight. Her smile softening, her brown eyes dancing in the candlelight, she stepped forward, her hands on her hips in mock severity.

"_Where in the world have you been hiding?_

_Really, you were perfect!"_

Malon knelt next to Zelda and nudged her playfully in the shoulder as Zelda looked at her friend. Zelda, a gentle smile spreading across her lips, blushed and glanced down at her hands. Malon shook her head, her eyes sparkling at the sweet, innocent beauty her friend had become that night. So like Zelda to be so embarrassed after performing so wonderfully. Malon narrowed her eyes, her curiosity getting the better of her. Where _did_ Zelda learn to sing with such unprecedented passion? What fantastic tutor had such capacity to bring out that Opera singer everyone had heard tonight? Who was this mysterious teacher Zelda had never spoken about?

"_I only wish I knew your secret_," Malon mused wistfully with a sigh as she continued.

"_Who is your great tutor?"_

Zelda suddenly grew pale and more introverted than she had ever been. Her eyes widened, but they sparkled with an intimate and underlying passion that made the blue in them sparkle and shine with a secret power. Malon raised an eyebrow at her friend and made to enquire further when Zelda suddenly leaned forward and, in a voice that seemed both excited and fearful, whispered, "Malon...do you remember when your mother brought me here when I was seven, to learn to dance at the Opera house after my father died?"

Malon nodded, not truly understanding what her friend was trying to say, and why she appeared so differently.

"While my father lay dying," Zelda continued breathlessly, "he spoke to me of an Angel of Music that he would send to me from heaven when he got there...and when I was brought here, to the Opera House, I sometimes heard a voice singing softly to me when I was in my bed..."

Malon narrowed her eyes. "Zelda," she pressed, grasping her friend's hand, "and you think your father has sent an Angel to you? That this angel is coaching you?"

"Who else, Malon?" Zelda whispered back, her eyes alight with eagerness. Malon furrowed her brow.

Zelda looked about the room, as if listening for a voice no one else could hear. She smiled to herself, closing her eyes for a moment before turning back to her bewildered friend.

"_Father once spoke of an Angel . . ._

_  
I used to dream he'd appear . . .  
Now as I sing, I can sense him . . ._

_  
And I know he's here . . ."_

Suddenly, Zelda stood, her eyes searching the darkness of the room. Malon's bewilderment at her friend's countenance turned quickly to uneasiness. Zelda's usually quiet demeanor had turned unsuspectingly to something somewhat peculiar...as if she had suddenly entered into a trance. Her eyes saw nothing and no one, searching...searching for her Angel of Music, whoever, or, more to Malon's mind, _whatever_ that Angel may be.

But Zelda continued, oblivious to her friend._  
"Here in this room_

_  
he calls me softly . . ._

_  
somewhere inside hiding . . ._

Somehow I know

_  
he's always with me . . ."_

Zelda placed a hand to her bosom and turned to gaze at her friend's face. To Malon, it seemed asif whatever trance Zelda had been in was slowing ending and fading away._  
_

"_He - the unseen genius . . ."_

Malon shook her head and took Zelda's hand, eager to lead her friend away from the Chapel.However Zelda felt about it, the darkness of that room pressed ominously upon Malon's mind, sending shivers down her spine and releasing a cold tremor to her heart.Zelda may have a love for the darkness, but Malon was eager to get her friend to her more illuminated dressing room. She wished to coax her suddenly distant friend back to reality again, to see her smile at the light and not revel in the dark.

"_Zelda, you must have_

_  
been dreaming . . ._

_  
stories like this can't come true . . ."_

Malon glanced around the corridors as she led the willing Zelda along, sometimes stealing a look at Zelda's far-away blue eyes. She continued uneasily.

_  
"Zelda, you're talking in riddles . . ._

_  
and it's not like you . . ._"

Zelda suddenly became ecstatic, her ecstasy showing suddenly in her voice. A smile, almost odd to behold, even fearful, broke through her fiery lips, the color in her face draining even as her eyes flashed with expectancy. Malon had not heard the flutter of fabric from above...but Zelda was eager to make her presence known to the Angel. Her voice suddenly swelled with a power that shocked Malon to her core.

"_Angel of Music!_

_  
Guide and guardian!_

_  
Grant to me your glory!_"

Malon marveled at her friend's sudden change at the mention of this strange, mysterious angel. She questioned the existence of such an apparition...but perhaps that was all that it was. Yet, strangely enough, this "Angel of Music" was as real to Zelda as the very air Malon was breathing as both she and Zelda made their way back to Zelda's dressing room. She glanced at Zelda again, her thoughts in a turmoil.

_(Sung): Who is this Angel? This..._

And she joined her friend's voice, her tone as questioning in sound as Zelda's was ecstatic, the cerulean eyes of her friend searching every shadow, every dark fabric that fluttered on its own.

"_Angel of Music!_

_  
Hide no longer!_

_  
Secret and strange angel . . ._"

They stopped together before the corridor leading to Zelda's dressing room. Malon once again glanced at her friend, searching those blue eyes. Zelda suddenly looked fearful, as if she had heard something unpleasant coming, or as if all her dreams were coming true at a faster pace than she had anticipated. Malon was about to say something, _anything_, that might shed some relief to her apprehensive friend, but Zelda's voice suddenly awoke within her once more, but softly, as if she feared to waken someone or something.

"_He's with me, even now..."_

Malon clasped her friend's hands, but they were icy cold. Zelda's lips were trembling with an emotion that Malon could not comprehend.

"_Your hands are cold..."_

Zelda didn't even appear to have heard Malon's words as she searched the darkness, all remaining color draining from her face at last. Her eyes wide and shining, Zelda continued on, her voice growing softer and softer.

"_All around me..."_

Fear at last surfacing through her, Malon placed a trembling hand to Zelda's pale cheek both to see if she her complexion was feverish and to turn Zelda's face towards hers, trying to get those wandering eyes to center in on something, _anything_, rather than the darkness that was beginning to enshroud them both.

"_Your face, Zelda, it's white..."_

Zelda's eyes finally found the chestnut eyes of her friend's, and, quite suddenly, and much to the relief of her friend, she came fully out of her trance. She blinked like one who has forgotten where she was at the moment as the color slowly returned to her face. Slowly, she placed a trembling hand to her forehead and shook her head gently.

"_It frightens me..."_

Her voice shook powerfully. Compassion quickly overcoming fear, Malon took her friend's hands once again, gripping them with a gentle firmness and squeezing them affectionately. Malon shook her head.

"_Don't be frightened..."_

A soft yet weak smile appearing on her lips, Zelda made as if to say something, when suddenly, and quite shockingly, Madame Impa appeared with her hands on her hips, her lips in a distinctively tight line.

"Malon Impa!" Madame Impa said sternly. "Are you not a dancer?"

Malon opened her mouth, then quickly closed it again as she let go of Zelda's hands to stare down at her feet. "Yes..." she whispered.

"Then stop your charade there with Zelda and get to the dancer's quarters _now_!" Madame Impa replied sternly. With a nod and a swift glance towards Zelda, who in turn gave her a reassuring smile, Malon moved quickly off, her nimble feet moving as effortlessly and gracefully as a young sprite on a fresh spring morning.

After watching her go, Madame Impa turned to Zelda, her lips breaking into a rare smile as she led Zelda to her dressing room, quickly shutting the door behind her. From her pocket, she withdrew a magnificent and stunningly beautiful red rose, a seductively black ribbon tied about it. Handing it to Zelda, she whispered, "You did very well...he is pleased with you."

Zelda smiled softly, a strange smile that told of stranger times in the past. She took the rose, her smile fading, and gazed at it for a moment, her face serene, her sparkling, distant blue eyes tracing the shadowy ribbon to its core. The rose itself was perfect, a show of magnificent etiquette and stunning perfection in its color and shape. Upon her first glance, Zelda perceived that each of the flower's thorns had been removed with the distinct care of a perfectionist, as if fearing for the recipient's life.

However, upon closer inspection, Zelda, as she traced a delicate finger over the ribbon itself, could feel a sharp thorn hidden by the black sash around the rose, its very presence remaining unnoticed until sensation by touch made its subtle existence known...

"Go on and rest," Madame Impa said presently as she moved towards the door. She opened it slowly, the sounds of a dying crowd quickly entering into the room. Shaking her head, she glanced once at Zelda's preoccupied state, then departed, closing the door once again behind her as she went.

Zelda moved towards her dresser and sat down, her entire thoughts bent towards the rose and its subtle mysteries...

-PHO-

"What a night!" Darunia exclaimed loudly as he made his way through the dying hustle and bustle behind the curtain, deep into the Opera House. He patted Rauru rather forcefully on the back, sending his poor companion stumbling forward and nearly dropping his champagne bottle.

"Yes, indeed," Rauru replied, rubbing his back and coughing a little.

"And I believe we have made quite the discovery in young Miss Daaé!" Darunia continued, winking at Sir Link.

Link started at the name, a blush coming to his cheeks. He nodded in response, then looked about for Zelda's dressing room. It was quite customary, and a rather old tradition, for the patron and the managers of the Opera House to visit and congratulate the lead of the night's opera; this night was no exception.

_  
_Link's eyes alighted upon the blessed door leading to Zelda's dressing room, the color already forming on his cheeks taking a more reddish hue with each step that he made towards it. Rauru gripped the champagne bottle; Darunia smiled in anticipation as they reached the door.

But Link wanted this moment, _his_ moment, alone at last with the star of the night. Sighing, he turned to the two managers and said apologetically, "Gentlemen, if you don't mind...I'd like to make this visit unaccompanied."

Darunia made as if to protest, but Rauru, whose interest lay more into the duties of the patron and money-lending aspects of his career than in violating the usual tradition, said quickly, "As you wish, monsieur." Besides, his champagne would therefore not have to suffer the indignity of being shared by others...

Link stepped forward, his hand on the door, when he realized he did not have anything to give to the lead singer, no present, no flowers, nothing save an empty hand and a rapidly beating heart!

He looked around desperately, suppressing a sharp cry of disdain for himself and anguish at his situation, when his eyes alighted upon the gleaming interior of a certain champagne bottle...

Before Rauru could even take a fresh breath of air, Link, with a smile, took the champagne bottle as politely as thievery could ever be, bowed courteously, and was into the dressing room before another word could be uttered.

Darunia raised a questioning eyebrow, then glanced at Rauru. "It appears they have met before," he said quietly.

Rauru merely looked at his empty hands in dismay.

PHO-

The dressing room of Zelda Daaé was pleasantly warm and comforting, an oasis for leisure and meditation, a paradise for pure serenity, and an Eden for the hundreds of flowers piled around the room from friends and admirers. These flowers mostly consisted of either white roses for a pure voice, or blue for serenity and composure on stage. Link felt that it was all perfect as he stole quietly into the room.

Zelda sat solemnly at her desk towards the end of the room, her slender back facing the door and young Sir Link of Hyrule. The small looking-glass in front of her, a miniature of the large mirror to Zelda's left, clearly reflected her serene yet occupied face, her eyes intent upon a red rose bound by a black ribbon which she held tightly in both of her hands. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she were poised to sing yet again.

Link smiled. "Zelda Daaé, where is your scarf?" he announced, raising an eyebrow as his confidence swelled in his beating heart.

Zelda stiffened and turned quickly around in her seat, nearly dropping her flower in her surprise. Her eyes widened when she found that her "intruder" had become something that allowed a blush to form at her cheeks and her heart to race.

Link's smile grew across his face. "You can't have lost it," he continued, his brow furrowed, the grin never leaving his youthful features. "After all the trouble I took. I was just fourteen and soaked to the skin..."

Zelda returned a soft smile to him as she finally understood. But the blush remained. "Because you had run into the sea to fetch my scarf," she replied quietly. "Hello, Link." She stood and smoothed her dress, then suddenly giggled girlishly. "Oh, I have missed you!"

Link blushed, but continued his smile nonetheless as he carefully placed his newly-acquired champagne bottle in the nearest chair. "Zelda," he half-whispered, then embraced her, laughing all the while.

As he drew back, he couldn't help but notice the maturity about her...but there was something glimmering in her eyes, something that shone through the perfect blue that reminded him so strongly of the young girl he had known from before. Or perhaps it was something else?

He smiled again, then said, almost teasingly, " 'Little Lotte let her mind wander...' "

Zelda blushed once more as a faint, reminiscent smile crept across her lips. "You remember that, too," she whispered to him.

Link only smiled as he continued: " 'Little Lotte thought: Am I fonder of dolls...' "

Smiling at their old game from the seemingly distant childhood, Zelda joined in with him. In that small game, the past swelled up within her mind, clearing away all darkness to expose a bright, sunlit room near the sea...the violin playing joyfully in the background...

" '...or of goblins,' " the two said together, " 'of shoes...' "

Again, Zelda giggled, saying, " '...or of riddles, of frocks...' "

Link raised a playful eyebrow and replied, "Those picnics in the attic..." He hadn't forgotten at all their game, nor of the wonderful days he had spent with her. Suddenly remembering to continue, he added to the Little Lotte, " '...or of chocolates...' "

Zelda moved back to her chair with her back to the mirror, that soft smile never leaving her lips. As she sat down, she sighed, and for a brief moment, Link saw a flicker of sadness mingled with undeniable happiness in her eyes, as if she would cry in a moment. He moved towards her, his brow narrowed in concern as he knelt before her. She looked up at him, and suddenly, the emotion was gone. "Father playing the violin," she whispered.

Link nodded. "As we read to each other dark stories of the North..."

A light came to Zelda's eyes. She leaned forward and gently placed a soft and slender hand on his shoulder. " 'No what I love best,' Lotte said, 'is when I'm asleep in my bed...

_...and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head!' " _she sang softly.

Link's heart fluttered at her voice, his own voice eager to join hers as he began to sing with her with a quiet voice begging to reveal all it felt.

_"The Angel of Music sings song in my head!"_

Zelda leaned closer to him, her eyes intent and eager. "Father said, 'When I'm in heaven, child, I will send the Angel of Music to you.' " Her voice grew quieter, the emotion she displayed at the name of the Angel growing softer. "Well, father is dead, Link, and I _have_ been visited by the Angel of Music."

Link raised an eyebrow. Something flashed again in her eyes, an emotion paralleling ecstasy, but not quite so. He wondered at it, then marveled at Zelda's sudden childish tone. Her belief, he knew, in her father's "Angel of Music" was as ardent as ever. "Oh, no doubt of it," he replied with a smile. Gathering his courage, he continued quickly: "And now, we'll go to supper!"

Zelda suddenly paled, the color from her blush quickly fading away, its evanescence as shocking as it was swift for poor Link. He gazed at her, his questioning eyes searching her suddenly fearful ones. What was so fearful about supper?

He quailed. Was it because of him?

Zelda straightened in her chair, her eyes subtly glancing about the room before she looked at him once more. She shook her head. "No, Link, the Angel of Music is very strict."

Link sighed quietly with relief. _So it is to be this game again_, he thought happily. It wasn't because of him at all. He gazed at her eyes, then smiled. "I shan't keep you up late!" he said teasingly.

But Zelda shook her head once more, her face completely serious, almost fearful. "No, Link..."

Link chuckled, his smile widening. It was a precious game, he knew, but he wished to do something special with her for once after all these years. He simply couldn't understand why she was so hesitant. Then, of course, he considered that perhaps her passion for the Opera, personified through this mysterious "Angel" of hers, was keeping her from the joys of a little supper with him...and then, of course, a walk along Hyrule's Market under the moon. His heart fluttered impatiently in his chest. "You must change. I must get my hat. Two minutes, Little Lotte." And without responding to her protests, he kissed her hand and hurried out, his champagne bottle lying forgotten on the chair.

Desperate, Zelda moved after him, but stopped herself, placing a pale hand on the door. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. "Things have changed, Link," she whispered through the door to the emptiness outside.

She made to move back to her dressing room, pondering how to explain her future absence to the young man who had stolen her beating heart, when the room suddenly darkened. With a small gasp, she placed a hand to her heart, her eyes widening. Strangely, she felt a soft wind caress her face, like the gentle fingertips of an unseen man. She trembled longingly, her eyes slowly beginning to close in ecstasy...

The lone candle on her desk was suddenly caught in the wind. Its pale yet excited flame danced vainly in the breeze, then suddenly went out.

The room was plunged into darkness.

Zelda swayed gently on her feet, the darkness pressing beautifully against her, awakening an emotion within her that she knew would burst from her throat in an instant. It was beautiful, intoxicating, and mesmerizing all at once. And in that instant, she felt as if music were being played through the very walls, powerful and almost wonderfully frightening.

And suddenly, a voice from beyond her large mirror erupted in song, its tone angry and full of hatred, powerful, yet as enrapturing as ever.  
_"Insolent boy!_

_  
This slave of fashion_

_  
basking in your glory!_

Ignorant fool!

_  
This brave young suitor,_

_  
sharing in my triumph!"_

Despite the anger of the voice, Zelda breathed heavily, the strange emotion that always shocked through her reaching a sudden climax. She opened her eyes and gazed desperately about the room, searching for the bearer of so divine a voice; she was eager to answer him._  
"Angel! I hear!_

_  
You speak, I listen! _

_  
Stay by my side, guide me!"_

Suddenlyshe remembered her momentary escapade with Link, and her sudden weakness. And to think she would have gone frolicking off with Link without thanking her Angel first! She stared guiltily at her feet._  
"Angel, my soul was weak - forgive me_

_enter at last, Master!_"  
Her Angel responded in a softer, gentler voice, causing the girl's heart to flutter in her chest with unimaginable pleasure.

"_Flattering child, you shall know me..._

_  
see why in shadow I hide!"_

Zelda smiled an odd smile, almost drunkenly had she known it at the time. Her Angel thought she was flattering! Would he come to her now? Would she finally see her great tutor? Her heart beat so rapidly in her chest she thought it would burst!

And the voice continued.

"_Look at your face in the mirror..."_

Zelda willingly obeyed, her eyes tracing lazily towards its glassy exterior, then nearly cried out in surprise. A figure was slowly forming within it as if through mist, appearing behind her reflection. She wanted so desperately to turn around, to see him, but found no power to do so. The young girl was caught fully in the power of the Voice as it crescendoed to her.

"_I am there inside!"_

A man appeared fully in the mirror, his cloak full of darkness billowing gently about him. His mask, a deathly white, covered the right side of his face, casting a shadow about him to mimic the black clothing he wore that covered him fully. So shadowed was his face that one would have thought that he bore no eyes...but their soft gleam, so passionate, so mesmerizing, caught the attention long before the darker hair atop his mysterious head truly did. He lifted a hand gloved in black to her.

Zelda was spellbound, hardly daring to blink lest he disappear in that instantaneous movement. Tears came to her eyes, but she withheld them. She trembled. Here at last, her Angel stood before her as plainly as her reflection in the mirror! He even remained there when the mirror magically began to slide open, revealing a world of mist in a lighted tunnel behind him. Zelda suddenly answered him in a voice so unlike her own, in a voice she had always sang for him in private, in a voice that rivaled her performance that night.

"_Angel of Music!_

_Guide and guardian!_

_Grant to me your glory!_

_Angel of Music, hide no longer!_

_Come to me, strange Angel!"_

Even as she sang, she began to walk slowly towards him, her tears drying quickly on her cheeks, her lips curling into a wondrous, mesmerized smile. Her eyes drank in her Angel with an unprecedented passion. It swelled up inside her, so warm in her bosom as it spread throughout her entire body. Her ecstasy reached beyond its climax as her Angel extended his gloved hand of darkness towards her from beyond the mirror. He sang to her once more; Zelda felt as if her very eyes would roll back suddenly.

"_I am your Angel of Music..._

_Come to me, Angel of Music..."_

Unbeknownst to either of them, and much to the Angel's frustration, Link returned outside Zelda's dressing room. Link stopped, his hand still on the handle. "Who's is that voice?" he called dangerously. Who would dare speak to his Zelda before him? "Zelda?" he called as he attempted to open the door.

It was locked!

"Zelda!" Link called.

The girl didn't hear the voice beyond her door. Slowly, her mind full of ecstatic delight, she extended her hand to her Angel, her fingers inches from his own hand. Again, the voice continued.

"_I am your Angel of Music..._

_Come to me, Angel of Music!"_

Zelda's breath caught in her throat, her eyes full of her Angel's mesmerizing appearance. Here was her great tutor, here before her!

Their hands grasped, his fingers wrapping around her small ones firmly, but oh, so gently. Zelda's eyelids drooped a little as she willingly allowed him to guide her through the mirror into a dream full of song and darkness underground...a labyrinth where illusion met eternally with reality...

Again, Link called through the door as he tried to open it forcefully once more. "Zelda!" he cried, but there was no one to hear his voice.

The Angel was leading Zelda through a dream...

PHO-

Sorry this took so long...I had a volleyball tournament in Las Vegas, I've been sick, and I'm exhausted still...hope this chapter was okay. Review if you so wish it; they are always appreciated, and will always be worshiped at a low cost of three days or so. Oh, and next chapter will BE THE MOST FUN I'VE EVER HAD! YES, MY FRIENDS! NEXT CHAPTER IS _THE_ PHANTOM OF THE OPERA SONG! _THE _SONG! WOOOOOOOOO...sorry...I get carried away a lot. Farewell, till chapter 4.

"In sleep he sang to me"...COME TO ME, ERIK, MY DARLING PHANTOM! Sorry again...


End file.
